Syrian Kurdish Survivor of Sednaya Prison: Parents Passed Away Thinking He Was Dead

By Kardo Roj 

QAMISHLI, Syria (North Press) – Abu Zaid (32), a former detainee of Sednaya Prison, breaks into tears when asked about his parents, who passed away believing their son was dead. Arrested in 2018, Abu Zaid spent seven years in Sednaya enduring relentless torture, only to return home to find his family shattered.

Vanished Without a Trace

Abu Zaid, a resident of Qanat al-Suwais neighborhood in Qamishli, disappeared in early 2018 during mandatory military service. His family, unaware of his whereabouts, presumed he had died, holding a mourning tent in his memory.

A discharged soldier of the Fifth Division in Daraa, Abu Zaid had initially completed his military service but was re-enlisted during the regime’s reserve call-up. Four months after being called back, he fled with four fellow soldiers, only to be recaptured days later in Daraa by military police.

From there, Abu Zaid’s nightmare began. Held in the notorious Palestine Branch in Damascus for three months, he was eventually transferred to Sednaya Prison, dubbed the “human slaughterhouse.”

Life Inside Sednaya

Abu Zaid’s voice trembles as he recounts the horrors he witnessed: “We were 10 people crammed into a tiny cell. There was no space to stretch. We ate and drank from the same bucket used as a toilet.”

Torture was routine. Abu Zaid recalls being struck 150 times on a single leg with electric cables for refusing to eat from the filthy bucket. “They told me, ‘You haven’t seen anything yet.’ And they were right,” he says grimly.

Inside the cell, detainees were stripped of their identities. “They gave me a number—125. That was my name for seven years. If I forgot it, I was tortured,” Abu Zaid explains. He vividly recalls the screams of women and children detained alongside him. “I always asked myself, what could they have done to deserve this?”

Daily Torture and Executions

Sednaya was a place of unrelenting torment. Abu Zaid describes daily beatings, starvation, and psychological abuse. Meals consisted of a piece of dry bread and half a potato in the morning, with a spoonful of bulgur in the evening.

Executions were frequent. “Every few days, someone was taken from our cell and never returned. You could hear the screams from the execution chambers,” he says.

One of the most harrowing moments was witnessing women being doused with acid while their children were forced to watch. “The sound of their screams still haunts me,” Abu Zaid says.

Stripped of Language and Identity

As a Kurd, Abu Zaid faced additional persecution. He was repeatedly punished for speaking Kurdish. “They burned cigarettes on my tongue to stop me from speaking my mother tongue. Over time, I lost my language,” he says.

By the end of his imprisonment, Abu Zaid could barely speak Arabic coherently due to the trauma inflicted during interrogations.

The Final Moments

In early December, just days before the regime’s fall, Abu Zaid and another inmate were told to prepare for execution. “We were certain it was the end. I couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for them to come for me,” he recalls.

But on December 8, the unimaginable happened—the prison doors opened. Guards announced the fall of the Assad regime and ordered detainees to leave. Abu Zaid and his fellow prisoners hesitated, fearing it was a trap.

“When they told us we were free, none of us moved. It was too surreal,” he says.

Returning Home to Loss

Upon his release, Abu Zaid returned to Qamishli to discover his parents had passed away, unaware he had survived. “They died thinking I was dead. I never got to tell them I was alive,” he says, his voice breaking.

Now living with the remnants of his family, Abu Zaid struggles to rebuild his life. He sits in a small room, wrapped in a blanket by the heater, unable to lift his head—a habit ingrained during years of captivity.

A Haunting Legacy

The memories of Sednaya remain a heavy burden. “The torture, the screams, the executions—I carry it all with me. No one can truly understand what happened there,” Abu Zaid says.

Despite his release, Sednaya’s horrors continue to define Abu Zaid’s life. He remains a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and a stark reminder of the atrocities committed under Assad’s regime.

This survivor’s story underscores the urgent need for accountability and justice for Syria’s countless disappeared and tortured. As Abu Zaid puts it, “I never thought I’d leave Sednaya alive. But those who died, their stories must be told.”